My decision to see Chris Rock at Birmingham's National Indoor Arena on Saturday was partially motivated by a sense of history. I saw Bill Hicks twice in 1993; friends of mine said they'd catch him next time around. A year later he was dead. I'm not saying that the healthy, happy Rock is living on borrowed time, but who knows when he'll be touring this country again? And how often do you get to witness comedy history? Because to my mind, Chris Rock is a historically great comedian, ready to be carved into comedy's Mount Rushmore and compared favourably to Hicks, Lenny Bruce and Richard Pryor.

After an initially promising start as a stand-up and sketch performer on various comedy shows, Rock realised he was fading into obscurity: "I was a has-been. So I figured if I'm not going to be famous, I can at least get really good." He spent two years writing like a maniac, performing nightly in comedy clubs, honing his material and perfecting his stagecraft. The result of these wilderness years was the 1996 HBO special Bring the Pain. As close to perfection as stand-up gets, Bring the Pain was an extraordinary diatribe on mid-90s America, taking in the OJ Simpson trial, Marion Barry's crack use, Colin Powell's presidential ambitions, domestic abuse, gender relations and most famously his "niggers versus black people" routine.

Variety called Bring the Pain "one of the truly remarkable hours of comedy ever to air on television". They weren't kidding. Watching the special today, it's still as fresh, raw and devastatingly funny as it was a decade ago. Compare and contrast with Rock's mentor Eddie Murphy's material from the 80s; Delirious has dated horribly and is as welcome a reminder of the period as Classix Nouveau and the woollen leg warmer. Like some Channel Five karate flick, the student killed his master - Murphy would never be relevant again.

Bring The Pain made Rock a star, and movie roles and further HBO specials followed. The first superstar hip-hop comic, he delivers his material with the assured timing and rhythm of a master MC and the fervour of his preacher grandfather who he cites as a significant influence. When so many stand-ups just want to be liked, Rock is fearless. Like Richard Pryor, he achieved crossover success without alienating his core audience. Black America regards him as something of a prophet - this may just be his finest achievement.

So what do you make of Chris Rock? Is he a comedy god or, as some reviews have suggested, just another hack peddling ugly stereotypes? And how does he compare to the established greats?